Demorn: Soul Fighter (The Asanti Series Book 3)

by David Finn

  9

  * * *

  Josephine awoke screaming inside her chamber. Her skin was slick with sweat, and her lidded eyes saw the Insect Queen gorging on her flock. Her body shuddered. The Queen’s husk still lay across the floor. Her race was stirring, she could feel the constant hive chatter inside her head.

  Jason was looking at her, his eyes wild with fear as he examined the chamber, the mass of reptiles waking from hibernation in their incubators. He won’t last, Josephine realised. Jason was a player who had become enmeshed in the game. He wasn’t like Wolf, who devoted himself to the cause. He was looking for an exit in a phase that didn’t provide an easy exit.

  ‘I have a mission you can run for me, Jason.’

  He almost bowed. His terror was palpable. She could feel the attention of the Hive upon him.

  ‘Do you know Baron Santos in Ceron?’

  ‘Only by reputation. He owns the Asanti whore,’ Jason mumbled.

  ‘Wrong,’ she replied. ‘She’s not a whore and nobody owns her, unless it is the goddess herself.’

  She saw his sarcastic expression, although he wisely chose not to say whatever smart-ass remark was in his head.

  ‘What does Santos have to do with all this? He’s just a small town Baron who is losing a local war. And I heard he was dead.’

  ‘No, he lives still. The gossip mongers are wrong once again. I need you to send him a message, and then you are free.’

  Jason looked nervous and uncomfortable. She tossed him half a skull.

  ‘It’s your half. I will keep the rest for Wrecking Ball, if he ever returns.’

  Jason looked pissed off, deciding to throw his weight around. ‘He’s me! Don’t you get it!’

  Josephine lurched out of the chamber and grasped him by the throat, smashing him against the wall. Her long serrated tongue scratched along his face. The human mask she had worn was becoming less and less important to her. The Hive was humming with hunger.

  ‘I could kill you now, toss you to my snakes. They would poison you, make you immobile, take days to milk you dry, perhaps months. Or you could do one little mission and walk away with half a soul more than you deserve.’

  She released him. He lay prostrate on the floor, murmuring apologies and swearing eternal loyalty.

  ‘I don’t need eternal loyalty, I just need the job done,’ she said.

  ‘What is the message, mistress?’

  ‘Tell him my army will arrive tomorrow at Ceron City. They will repel the Prussians.’

  Jason looked anxious. ‘Why would he believe me?’

  She grasped him and bit deep into his neck, careful not to let her poison release, but two savage teeth marks burrowed deep in the skin. She released him. His eyes were miles wide and swimming with horror.

  ‘Show him the mark of Lady Josephine, his former beloved. He will know it. Tell him that I swear the army shall come, as I long ago promised him.’

  ‘And then I’m free?’

  ‘As you will ever be,’ Josie said.

  She was tired now. The need for sleep consumed her, even with so much left to do. She fell back into her chamber, which shut around her, and she tried to avoid the recurrent nightmare about the obsessed Queen she had just toppled. Around her the Hive sang and planned for true waking.

  10

  * * *

  Demorn ran down a semi-lit corridor, the countdown in her head, gun out. There were no more alarms. The lights were flickering on and off. She almost tripped over the body of a thorn-head, the first she had seen in awhile. She skidded to a quick stop, checking his body. Laz burst burns. What was this? She looked at the wall. The symbols were replaced by images. She saw the icon of a young woman in black clothing fighting monsters across a tableau of images. The symbols were powerful and hypnotic. She brushed her hand against the wall. It seemed to come alive, the monsters moving, the woman shooting them down as she scrolled from left to right, down some stairs, left to right, shooting, punching, kicking, all action, no mercy.

  Demorn released her hand from the wall. It’s me, Demorn knew in her heart. My fight. My story. Well, fuck crying. The corridor lurched. Demorn staggered, the watch pinging afresh. There was a small window just ahead of her, and Demorn skipped with light feet. She looked out, they were taking off, the structure she had run into was rocketing upward into the sky. She saw green fields below, the low lying buildings, the broken black ship, still burning below the black mirror portal, surrounded by the grey robots.

  Her watch pinged. Seven minutes. She ran around the corner, straight into a medium-sized hangar housing two Banker Ships, moored and tied down. The hangar was open to the sky.Three Triton goons stood by the nearest ship. Wind howled through the hangar. Demorn slid to the ground, automatically seeking cover behind a storage tank. One of them saw her, shouting. She fired first, catching him with two shots in the torso. He went down screaming. No thorn-heads. The others started shouting. She shot again from cover, the pistol steady in her hands. They were slow and she nailed one with a headshot, the other in the throat.

  She sprinted across to check the bodies. All dead, the first one gurgling on the floor. Standard humans, standard Triton jumpsuits with the logo attached. Everything was moving so fast. None of them had guns. Demorn didn’t enjoy killing for the sake of killing. It didn’t make her feel proud or more convinced of the cause. But this was war and they were the enemy. Triton was selling all of reality down the tube. Joining them was a choice. The watch pinged. Six minutes. The craft she was in accelerated upward, toward the black portal. She clung to the side of the Banker ship moored in the dock. She felt a frisson of fear as the portal surrounded her completely with shimmering energy and the wind howled around her.

  Her eyes were drawn to the immensity, the shimmering colours within the blackness.

  A slow handclap. She turned, one hand still grasping the side of the Banker ship. Kingdom. Grinning in his battle suit, one gloved hand clapping against an enormous laz cannon pointed directly at her. His visor was up and his scarred face was cruel. He hadn’t fully healed since they went a few rounds in the Soul Fight.

  He said, ‘Fancy seeing you here, Demorn. I thought I told the client we have a no whores policy on board the vessel.’

  Demorn went for the shot but he fired first, an enormous concussive blast of pure energy scorching her in the chest, ripping her apart, another blast thundering again as she slammed against the Banker ship and all the lights went out in her head, the air vibrating as they hit the portal.

  Kingdom slapped her across the face with a lead-lined inner glove, splitting her lip.

  He raged, ‘Are you one of these fucking immortals, Demorn!’

  Her shirt was torn, shredded by the blast. Blood filled her mouth. Between her breasts the ruby heart glowed. Inside she felt shattered and broken like smashed glass. She felt a long way from immortal. Everything hurt. The locket hung limp on the chain around her neck. How much did this pyscho know?

  She looked up at him. ‘No.’

  ‘You took two cannon blasts in the heart, Demorn. Don’t lie to me!’

  He hit her again, harder. She spat a mixture of blood and saliva. She looked around. They were in a plush looking room. At first she thought hotel but looking closer she realised it was a cabin. Kingdom had tied her hands with something sharp to a chair, her hands behind her. She could see one Triton soldier looking at her nervously, unsure as to what to do.

  Kingdom gestured him away with a wave of his hand.

  Demorn said, ‘I’m just a quick healer, Kingdom. There’s no need to be so grumpy.’

  He laughed at that. ‘You’ve got a quick wit. Do you know who I am?’

  ‘The asshole who killed Iverson’s wife? Not that I particularly care about Iverson or his wife.’

  He glanced at her. ‘Don’t lie. You must be Order to get this far.’

  ‘Strictly freelance, honey. I’m an Innocent. I work out of Babelzon. The only thing I know about the Order is they love hanging over the W
ar in Firethorn, picking over the dead like vultures.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s them.’

  ‘I’ve always kinda hated them.’

  Kingdom sat on a chair facing her. ‘That’s interesting.’

  She shrugged. ‘We both hate the Order. We’ve got something in common.’

  ‘How easily could you break free?’

  She inclined her head slightly. She couldn’t guess what angle he was coming from. He didn’t look psychotic or awful, just tired and old. The stubble was longer than the last time she had seen him, deep black bags were prominent beneath his eyes. The scar she had given him was raw and red.

  ‘Pretty easily,’ she said.

  ‘Do it. I won’t hurt you if you don’t try and kill me.’

  She flexed her hands to metal. The tie snapped.

  He said, ‘Sorry for hitting you.’

  She shrugged, massaging her wrists. ‘I’m on a mission, Kingdom. I play to win, too.’

  She drew a line down her face with a metal finger. ‘Sorry about the scar.’

  He gave her a grin that reminded her of death. ‘I’ve got a healing chamber back home. I’ll probably come out looking twenty-three.’

  He stood up, going over notes which lay on the cabin table. Demorn was amazed at his level of trust. What felt like minutes ago he had sought to blast her into nothingness. But war made for strange alliances, especially this deep in the piece.

  ‘Have you guessed where we are?’ he asked. ‘Have your people told you the truth?’

  ‘We’ve been bouncing across dimensions, it’s been fucking dramatic. They’ve told me a few things. All I keep hearing is we are headed to the Source. I assumed this was it. Then we took off. Then you shot me. Then I woke up and you’re a lot less crazy than some of the people I’ve been hanging with.’

  Kingdom smiled, looking lost in the documents. She wondered how he lumbered around all day in a battle suit like that. ‘You’re close to the Truth. Did they talk to you about a button?’

  She close her words carefully. ‘They may have mentioned one.’

  He looked at her, impatient. ‘Look, just say yes if you mean yes. I was a politician on my world before all this. I can give you some clarity if you need some.’

  ‘I’d kill for some clarity.’

  ‘Good. That’s progress. We shouldn’t try to kill each other every time we meet. The button was pressed a long time ago.’

  ‘And things were reset?’ Demorn asked, confused. She didn’t really understand these moves behind moves. People spoke in riddles. She liked to deal in facts.

  ‘No, not really, but a course was set, a program started. You’ve been manipulated, Demorn. Force-fed images and myth. This ship is an inter-dimensional missile, headed directly to the Bay.’

  ‘Bay City?’

  ‘Yes. This ship is the comet in the sky the denizens of the Bay are so terrified of. We hit their world, the missile lands, we crash, we die, Bay City explodes, Ceron City goes under too, and Baron Santos, clinging to life by threads inside his doomed capital, initiates the nukes and destroys the Prussians. Firethorn is over, a dead dimension, and Triton, and whatever horror lays behind their logo, claims their prize. A universe will die. It might even be enough to kill us all.’

  Her watch pinged.

  ‘What’s that?’ Kingdom asked.

  ‘How long we have left. Two minutes.’

  That death smile. She could see the humour now too. He said, ‘Do you want to stop it?’

  ‘Sure. My girlfriend lives in the Bay. Plus, there’s a Soul Fight going on. If the place dies, all those Souls will be collected, an entire Tournament.’

  He moved to the door. She pressed her hand against his metal chest.

  ‘Why did you shoot me, Kingdom? If I am the one that has been sent to stop this.’

  ‘I didn’t know. I just knew you were a hired gun, some kind of assassin. I associated you with the Order. I assumed you were working for them.’

  ‘I’m freelance, baby. Remember that.’

  He tossed her a shirt, black, covered with some crazy rock band imagery. She threw off the ruined Spider-Man shirt and tossed on the band shirt. The ruby on her chest was slowly gathering force. She was nowhere near full strength. The locket hung dead around her neck.

  ‘When the cannon hit you, and I saw the gem, I knew you were something extra. Something unique.’

  She said, ‘They always tell me I’m a legend. They’ve got books on me, comics too, all through Firethorn. It’s kinda embarrassing. People think they know everything about me. My successes and my failures. My loves and what I lost. They say I’ve seen the end of the world. Fought for them. Died for them. But I don’t remember anything, almost none of it.’

  She paused. ‘And honestly, I don’t like people that much. I sometimes wonder if they got the right person.’

  Kingdom laughed. ‘You’ve seen the end of the world but did you save them?’

  Demorn shrugged. ‘Who knows.’

  He said, ‘I’d never heard of you. But I’m an old man, Demorn. I don’t exactly pick up comics.’

  She glanced at her watch. Ping.

  One minute.

  ‘Time’s almost up. Hey, I guess if this missile hits and it goes like you said, I really have seen the end of the world.’

  She gave Kingdom a quick hug and ran from the room.

  11

  * * *

  Demorn ran through the corridors, the images on the walls back again. Phases of her life, not worth paying attention to now. All she felt were the seconds slipping away, piece by piece, sliding through her fingers. The need to operate with maximum efficiency, make every moment count, each decision vital. All her life these had been the commandments. Since Asanti exploded and flung Smile and herself into the maelstrom, her whole life had been a series of choices to survive. There was nothing to go back to. All that counted was the momentum to press forward. The corridors twisted. She wasn’t even glancing at the images, a series of nightmares rather than dreams. She felt deep in the heart of the ship or missile or whatever the hell it was they were travelling in. She had almost forgotten what was so urgent.

  Demorn rounded a corner and came to a walkway suspended over a large circular room. In the middle a grey metallic globe hung. Déjà vu span through her like a movie. Instinctively she knew what this was. A Master Room. The door was closing. Her watch was pinging. Demorn sprinted across the walkway, lungs burning, as she pressed herself against the closing door, her metal hands bending it back for a moment more, one final chance. She jumped inside. The door sealed behind her.

  She smashed down to the floor, chest heaving with the effort. She heard a woman’s voice, sarcastic and volatile.

  The woman said, ‘Demorn, you stupid bitch.’

  Demorn looked up with a savage grin. Josie stood there over the control booth, her reptile form clear now. Two of her minders were beside her, savage lizard people.

  ‘Josephine. I knew you were no good. I knew it in my gut.’

  Lady Josephine snarled. ‘Oh, I think I’m awfully good. I got this far, didn’t I? While you blundered across the realities like an errant dog!’

  Josephine went for her gun but Demorn shot first. One of the helpers jumped across her line of fire, and ate the first bullet. The other sprang at her. Josie was firing a small laser, it smashed into the wall beside Demorn. The remaining lizard took a chunk of Demorn’s shoulder. She blocked out the pain, catching the creature’s neck with her metal right hand. She squeezed with every ounce of strength left in her, the ruby heart still burning low, going on muscle memory alone. She snapped the neck of the creature and it died.

  Josie was backed against the wall. She was holding her laser like a lost lamb. Unfortunately Demorn could see the model and at these close quarters a direct hit might finish her off. Her whole system was still in shock from Kingdom’s double blast.

  ‘You’re too late, bitch!’ Josie screamed. ‘The controls are all set, I got what I needed from y
ou, just die!’

  She fired and Demorn threw the body of the dead reptile in the way of the blast, feeling the laser scorch it, warming her steel fingers. She threw the burnt mass at Josephine. The room was only a few metres across, and Demorn followed, spinning hard, with an unrestrained kick into Josephine. The woman collapsed, the laser falling from her hand. Demorn wrenched her up with one hand, smashing her face into the console. Josie hissed something, and Demorn smashed her face into the console again.

  ‘Did you really think you could beat me! Did you really think you could beat me,’ Demorn screamed, her eyes flooded with tears, for the treachery and the pain of being here, at the end of everything, with the villain revealed as somebody she had respected.

  Josephine looked up with blood in her cold, lidded eyes. ‘I’ve already won, whore.’

  Demorn smashed her again into the wall. ‘I’m not a whore!’

  ‘No, just a mercenary who sells her ass and her gun.’

  Josie laughed as she spoke, broken and bleeding on the floor. That cold feeling ran through Demorn again. The intimation of some terrible ending which she did not have the power to avert, only witness. ‘What have you done, Josephine? What have you done?’

  A screen opened up. Bay City came into view. The craft was fast descending. Demorn was scanning the controls. It was all just a series of blinking lights to her. MASTER ROOM VERSION 3.0 ran across the front screen. She looked desperately for something she recognised.

  Josie hissed from the floor, her face savagely beaten. ‘We slip through the black portal and synch with the comet. You can’t stop it now, you know. It’s FATE.’

  ‘Watch me try.’ Demorn had her gun on her.

  ‘This comet will hit Bay City. The city will die. Ceron will fall. Firethorn will be decimated.’

  Demorn tried punching a few buttons but nothing worked. ‘You’re a cheery soul, aren’t you?’

  ‘I just know what happens and what won’t. There is no sense in fighting Fate.’